


Words of Eons Past

by glitteringnights



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Depression, Empty Nest Syndrome, Post-Finale, minor alcohol abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28587834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteringnights/pseuds/glitteringnights
Summary: Din is suffering after the departure of Grogu. It’s clear to everyone that he’s been hit hard after returning his kid to this own kind. The dealings of the Jedi, the reclamation of Mandalore, all business Din never wanted to get wrapped up into in the past, yet somehow managed to now. The galaxy is a lot bigger than one might think. Post-finale, acting as a season three.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Words of Eons Past

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on a season three of the show, continuing directly after the finale. I hope you enjoy it!

In the span of mere days, Din had lost everything. 

He lost his home, the Razor Crest was gone. 

He lost his freedom, he was now the Manda’lor. 

He lost his identity, all he knew about his creed was broken, in shambles. 

He lost his light, Grogu was gone. He’d left with the Jedi. 

Din had nothing left. 

Standing in the bridge of the now overtaken imperial cruiser, for the first time in years, Din felt small, lost, unsure of what was next. It wasn’t like when the covert was destroyed, he at least had a clear path he needed to follow to honor them. No, it wasn’t like that at all. Hopeless, empty. Like the last time he saw his parents. 

It had been seconds, minutes, maybe, since Grogu and the Jedi disappeared behind the doors. Everyone stood in silence, he didn’t move, facing the space the Jedi and his kid had just been. Unmasked. Unsure. Undignified. 

Finally, Din scrunched his eyes together. An act he had unwittingly picked up in moments of anxiety. He took a deep breath, attempting to steal himself, to anchor him to the moment, the here and now, and not the past, what could’ve been. 

He procured the first movement in the bridge. Slowly, Din bent down to grab his helmet. For a moment, as his gloved hands grasped onto it, he was overcome with a feeling of shame and disgust. This was not supposed to be the way. Standing in a room full of near strangers, broken creed and all. 

Could he even put it on?

The creed demanded the extreme sacrifices to protect the foundlings. Was this, breaking the creed by showing his face included? Din didn’t know. Didn’t know what it meant, if he could put the helmet back on. He should not. Yes, he completed his quest. But at what cost? His happiness, his creed, his son? 

Bo-Katan was just as much a Mandalorian as he was, as she and her collective showed their faces, the creed he swore differed, yes, but what did that mean? Surely, it didn’t make him any less Mandalorian? 

His morals, his values, all that he has ever held dear had been shattered in a matter of days. He was lost and confused, he didn’t know what to do anymore. 

He could only think; was this how his parents felt when they tucked him away in the bunker?

He would figure it out later, Din was in no place to fight the internal battle inside himself, knowing what was for certain to come next. With a deep sigh, the helmet locked into place, shielding him from the outside world, from prying eyes, once more. 

The room was deathly quiet. The smallest sound was palpable, from the rustle of fabric to Moff Gideon’s stable breathing in his unconscious state. Dins heart was beating too loud, the rush of blood filling his ears. 

He was able to hide behind his helmet, but the Mandalorian would be unable to hide from the dawning conversation he knew he was destined to have. 

So, finally, after what felt like light years of just standing, looking straight at the door where his kid had left through, Din turned around. 

He turned around and faced everyone in the room. He didn’t know who’d speak first. Maybe Cara, wanting to note her concern. Bo-Katan, he felt, was more likely, given how she was staring daggers into him right before the Jedi had shown up. Maybe Gideon would magically wake up from his unconsciousness and mock him some more, ridicule him for what he’d both lost and gained today. 

Despite what he’d thought, no one spoke. The silence remained, just as suffocating as before. They were waiting on him. For him to make the first move, awaiting his next words. 

Even if he knew what to say, it felt as though he couldn’t speak. Lips parted under beskar, but no sound was produced. Nothing happened. Din was a man of few words, yes, only speaking when necessary, but he had never been this stumped before. The silence bounced off of his helmet, ringing in his ears like a bell that was struck on the sixth hour of the day. 

After some time, Din was not even registering the people around him. The people that stood, and stared, and waited. He did not look at them, he did not think of them. He felt the dull ache in his chest, and that’s what had taken hold of his focus in the first place. He felt empty. Hopeless. 

The first voice rang out, the quietness possibly too much for everyone else, “Boba will be here soon.” It was Fennec. “That is, if you’re coming with.” She was speaking to him. 

Din turned to angle his head towards the sharpshooter. He hadn’t even thought about what would happen next. Bo-Katan wanted this vessel to reclaim Mandalore. She also wanted the darksaber to do the same. 

With a dialogue at the very least established, piercing the thick fog of silence, Cara spoke next. “Mind if we tag along and dump him off?” She gave Gideon’s slumped form an inelegant nudge, manhandling him into a sitting position. Fennec responded with a curt nod and brought out the communicator she shared with Boba, quietly walking a few paces off to have a word. 

Once Cara had Gideon propped up against the sides of one of the counsels, she moved her gaze to Din. “Mando? You coming with?” She spoke more softly, tentatively, as if she was treading on cracked glass that threatened to shatter at any moment, and Din hated it. 

His gaze strayed from Fennec, whose back was to him, to Cara, to Bo-Katan and Koska, then back to Cara once again. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. Din didn’t particularly care to help liberate Mandalore, especially after the murderous glare Kryze had bestowed upon him after finding out he beat Gideon. Surely, she’d try to get the jump on him at any time if he were to go with her. 

Dins mind was hazy, he still felt the weight of Grogu pressed into his arms, the ghost of his little claws brushing against his cheek. He was, a jar with no purpose. One that had developed spider web like cracks, as the fillings spilled out into oblivion. 

He did not answer. 

Cara’s face only scrunched up with the lack of a response. After a few more moments, the sensor that indicated the arrival of another ship beeped. She sighed and turned to Fennec, who simply dipped her head, “He’s here.”

“Come on, Mando,” Cara grunted as she hauled the Moffs body over her shoulders. “We have to get going.”

He was silent and still once more. 

Cara turned to look at Fennec, who’d also moved towards the now opened door. She looked frazzled, and quite frankly, annoyed. She moved towards him, standing directly in front of Din. “Unless you plan to stay on this cruiser, you need to start moving.” She spoke lowley, in an attempt to regain his attention and actually acknowledge her words. 

She stared at him directly, and with what severity she held in her gaze Din felt his skin itch and crawl, as though his face was bare to the air and his helmet was still off. 

Through all that, Din dimly acknowledged her concern. There was no use in staying here. This was not where he belonged. 

Slowly, he finally turned to walk towards the door. His descent was slow, but Cara didn’t seem to mind as she lugged the imps body along. Fennec was waiting for them at the threshold, her face neutral. 

As he took at the door, he felt as if he were to walk through, he’d truly feel lost. To leave the same way Grogu did, but to know that they weren’t leaving together. 

The Mandalorian breathed in a shaky breath, preparing himself as he was about to place a foot forward. 

“You’re not worthy of the darksaber, to have the right to rule Mandalore. It belongs to me.”

Din stopped, frozen in place. Through the edges of his visor, he watched both Fennec and Cara shift to see the owner of the voice. Bo-Katan ended her silence, to say what they were all waiting for. 

The clink of her boots echoed off the steel floor. Din still had his back turned. “I have been in possession of the darksaber many times before. I am the sole ruler of Mandalore.”

She was about twenty paces away, he wagered. She’d stopped stepping closer. 

“Yeah, then how come you keep losing it?” Cara asked, disdain lacing her voice. Din was sure he could imagine Bo-Katan's expression, fiery and hot and angry as it bore into his back, blazing holes through the beskar, until moving to Cara. 

“Mandalore is all that matters to me. I have suffered, and sacrificed much for this, and I will continue to. I have fought in the Siege and the Night of a Thousand Tears. I have seen my sister, my planet, my people be tormented by monster after monster. So, forgive me if I’ve had some trouble concerning the darksaber.” Her voice seethed, condescension and elegant anger all wrapped together. Her head turned back towards Din, who still faced away. “And I will do whatever I must to reclaim my world.” 

Her words reverberated through the bridge. The weight the words carried was clear enough to everyone. A blanket of stillness was laid down once again. 

“I’m not going to fight you,” Dins' voice was hoarse. “I told you, I yield. Take the saber. Reclaim Mandalore. Do what you want, it doesn’t concern me.”

“That’s not how it works,” she repeated her earlier words softly, yet they still held strength that rivaled the purest of beskar. 

“Your head must be thicker than that beskar you’re wearing if you’re not hearing what he’s saying.” Cara scoffed. “We’re going.”

Haltingly, Din started to turn. His steps were heavy and loud against the ground, the spurs jingling slightly. He looked directly at Bo-Katan Kryze, now. She’d moved closer. He was right, her gaze held raw emotion, like sharp pointed daggers that would cut one into pieces in a matter of seconds. 

“I just lost everything. I lost all I knew about my creed, I lost my ship, and I lost my son.” The words were out of his mouth faster than he realized, and he felt his emotional pain threaten to further bubble to the surface. “I didn’t ask for this. Any of this!”

She did not raise her voice, did not act out as he had just did, “Then let’s settle this.” 

His helmet shook, “No. I meant what I said. We’re not fighting.”

The scowl on the female warriors face only depended, “You are a coward. You should be ashamed to wear that armor.”

For all Bo-Katan had said to him in the short time he knew her, this was the only thing that unnerved him. It wasn’t because she was a Mandalorian by birth, no. Not even because she was the planet's previous ruler. No, that was not it. It unnerved him because she was right. Her words rang true. He should be ashamed. He was not worthy of his besker, not anymore. He was a stain on his heritage, an embarrassment to his creed. Din steeled himself. He knew what he had to do. 

“Take your kriffing sword. I don’t want it.” He unhooked the saber from his belt and threw it onto the deck, and swiftly turned to walk past the door without a second thought, anticipating a shot to the back or a cord wrapped around his abdomen. 

But nothing came. 

Only Fennec and Cara remained with him as the door to the bridge slammed shut, cutting off Bo-Katan and Koska and the darksaber, for good. 

All four of them, Gideon included, entered the lift, taking them to the base level where Boba and Slave I were waiting. Din did his best to level his shaky breathing. The truth hurt, it was like he was punched in the ribs, his breath stolen at the realization. 

“It’s going to be okay, Mando,” Cara said quietly. “You’ll see him again.”

Din clenched his fists at his sides. 

He did not need to hear any lies after the truth weighed so heavily on him. 

Inside the bridge, Bo-Katan flexed her fingers, fighting off the urge to race after the mandalorian and snap his neck right then and there. 

“You’re letting them go?” Koska asked, walking up to her superior as she continued to look at the metal door. 

“For now, Koska.” The warrior replied, changing course towards the control panels of the cruiser, “For now. I have a plan.”


End file.
